


Of Robin Hoods and Swingsets

by LassieLowrider



Series: COC2019 [5]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Childhood, Gen, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:26:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LassieLowrider/pseuds/LassieLowrider
Summary: Simon considers life on a swingset.Robin Hood comes along.or: The Mage finds Simon on a swingset, and tells him about magic.
Series: COC2019 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553869
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Of Robin Hoods and Swingsets

**Author's Note:**

> I own zilch.
> 
> Fill for COC2019 day 5 prompt Carry on prequel.

I pushed off with one foot, setting the swing into motion again. I’d let it swing on its own, come to a halt in its own time, and then I’d kick off again.

I’d been shunted again. The playground was my only refuge and this late in the evening it was empty. No one in the foster home would come looking for me for a good long while, so I could just sit here and swing, still, kick off, swing…

I’d be moved to some little town in Surrey, the week after next. As usual I had no choice, but I guess I didn’t mind much. I’d be starting a new school, but I would’ve done that anyway, and it’s not like I have any friends to miss.

No, the only thing I’ll actually miss is probably the bed. This time around I had my own bed in my own bedroom. It was a guestroom, obviously, but I didn’t share it with anyone. 

I was so deep in my own thoughts I didn’t notice the man until he sat down on the swing next to mine. I didn’t look straight at him, only glancing from the corner of my eye, but from what I could see he was dressed as Robin Hood. We’d been reading it in school before summer, and the man on the swing looked exactly like I’d imagined Robin Hood.

Robin Hood didn’t say anything at first, just set his swing in motion - doing it like me, kick, let it swing, let it settle. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, what I could see behind the chains of the swings and the bruised knuckles of the hand I’d wrapped around mine.

“Hello, Simon,” Robin Hood said after a long moment, and I couldn’t stop the flinch. I swivelled my head around, staring wide-eyed at him. “How are you?”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” I replied, before standing up and moving away from the swingset. I wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, my teachers had told me. Going by what my classmates had whispered, that was the kind of thing parents are supposed to tell you, but mine wasn’t exactly present. My foster families never seemed invested enough to actually tell me things like that.

“I’m the Mage, and I’m headmaster of a school called Watford,” Robin Hood - the Mage? Who calls themself ‘Mage’? - called after me. I stopped and turned to him, looking sullenly at him. 

“What?” I may not be a teenager, but after watching my latest ‘foster sister’ be as unapproachable as possible, I had learnt a thing or two about rebellion.

“Well, we’re not strangers anymore, are we? I’m the Mage, you’re Simon.” He shrugged, making the action look effortlessly graceful. 

“So? What do you want with me?”

“I’m the headmaster of Watford, a school for magick, and I want to offer you a place there,” he said, entirely straight-faced. I couldn’t stop the guffaw of laughter I felt bubbling up. Not only did he dress like Robin Hood, but he was also insane to boot.

“Yeah, uh, I think the closest mental hospital is quite a bit from here, and I’m not sure how you got here, but I think we should call for your minder now,” I said, snorting. Magick. As if. I turned around again but didn’t manage to take more than a few steps before he called after me again.

“Haven’t you ever done anything… odd? Turned something a different colour, moved something you shouldn’t have been able to?” At his words, I froze, remembering that yes, I had done that, but - always I had chalked it up to happenstance, maybe I had misremembered where something was or what colour it was. A pause, the two of us hanging on a precipice, before he continued. “Maybe even… set something on fire?” 

I knew, before I did it, that flinching was probably a mistake. I didn’t want to humour his delusions, but… I had done all of that. I had set quite a few things on fire - many more than I should’ve, and way more than could’ve reasonably spontaneously combusted.

“Simon Snow, you’re Magick, and welcome to learn about it at Watford.”

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: five days already? What is the regular passage of time?
> 
> Also: do not spoil _Wayward Son_. Do not HINT about _Wayward Son_. Do not TALK about _Wayward Son_.


End file.
